SUNDAY 10 NOVEMBER 1985

  The Muslem Sabbath was on Fridays, the Jewish Sabbath on Saturdays and now it was Sunday, the Christian Sabbath. What better place to start the day than with a visit to the empty tomb vacated by the Lord. The Franciscan Mass begins at 5.30am on Sundays. I was privileged to celebrate an Easter Sunday Mass in the nearby Blessed Sacrament Chapel where the meeting of the Risen Christ with his mother is remembered. The congregation was composed of different nationalities but the message was the same for all - 'the tomb is empty, the Lord can be found in the Mass.'

  I had hoped to buy a locally made stole, with purple Jerusalem crosses but the place where I had received the first one was now charging £32.00. I spotted similar stoles, and after three visits and much bartering, I bought one for £15.00 in the shop from which I had dashed in 1980 to escape pressure salesmanship, without buying anything!

  After that mercenary scene, I needed some peace and visited the Church of The Virgin's Tomb and also a little church beside it, which commemorates the sleep of the Apostles during the Agony of Our Lord. 'A stone's throw away', as the Gospel says, is the Church of All Nations built over the rock of the Agony, which is in front of the High Altar. The beautiful mosaics tell the story of Our Lord's Agony and betrayal.

  I moved a further stone's throw, away up the hill to my own quiet little picnic spot to read the Gospels and enjoy my much earned, I thought, morning snack. As I sat in the sunshine, I knew it would be 8.30am in England and wondered how my brother was managing in looking after Hill Chapel.

  After a peaceful rest, I entered the Basilica of the Agony to admire the magnificently coloured mosaics which tell the story of Holy Thursday night. Many nations have contributed to the building, hence its other name - the Church of all Nations.

  I took that short cut again across the Kedron Valley in search of the Pool of Siloam. Our Lord asked the man born blind to wash in it. The pool is connected by a 500 metre tunnel, made by King Hezekiah, to the Virgins' Fountain. I walked its length twice - above ground - and saw pilgrims descending with candles to walk it, underground. A Californian guide explained the whole system to me and directed me up the steep hill to see the latest archaeological discovery - a shaft, sunk through from the Old City to enable them to get to the water. David ordered his men to scale that shaft to take the city. The discovery of the shaft is so new that it isn't in the guide books and as I rushed back for 12.30pm lunch I was pleased with my discovery and eager to tell the others.

  On Sundays many Catholic Churches are closed - a day of rest for the hardpressed guardians. I wandered outside the walls and ate my afternoon snack at the Damascus Gate - seemingly all those in the Old City wanted to come out to be met at the Gate by those outside who wanted to go in.

  And then, something completely different - a visit to the shopping centre of the New City. I felt I knew how Charlton Heston felt when he moved from the film set of a Biblical Epic to his hotel. I spent thousands of shekels on picnic food - even in the New City, prices were still in the old currency - and then set off for the New Gate entrance. There was an Army blockade. No one could leave or enter. After much questioning about why I wished to go to the Old City, I was allowed back in. When I reached the Casa Nova, I heard the full dramatic story. An Arab, in the midst of the flow of people, had stabbed a Jewish soldier at the Damascus Gate, just after I had left the area. The traders shut down their stalls and businesses immediately and rushed to their homes. Once again, tensions were running high in this troubled city.